An icon recently appeared on my I-pad called I-Books. After clicking on it, I discovered that, like Amazon and Kindle, Apple sold books that could be bought and downloaded on-line, and it also offered a large number of free books. I downloaded, free, to my I-pad "War and Peace" and "The Unbearable Bassington" by Saki--H. H. Munro.
With W and Peace, I am taking a leisurely stroll, savouring a chapter or two at breakfast, and I think it's going to take me over a year.
And I found out yesterday, waiting in my car for Joan, that these books were also synched to my I-Phone. So I can read something rather than playing Hangman ofr Paper Toss.
I have read The Unbearable Bassington, and one can only admire the wit and elegance of H.H. Munro. He writes in long and carefully constructed sentences. Most of the characters that appear are the subject of withering criticism--of their voices, appearance, morals, ethics, hypocrisy, et al. A group of ladies playing bridge engage in sardonic conversation, each attempting in subtle and catty ways to denigrate their companions,. There is not much of plot. Young Bassington is not unbearable--indeed he is one of the more likable characters. His mother, Francesca, wants him to marry a rich woman so that she can keep her house in Moon Street and all her cherished possessions, particularly an old master painting. Young Bassington loses the rich young lady to a young MP, and he has to be shipped off to a job in West Africa, where he dies. Francesca learns of his death, and at the same time is told that her cherished old master is a copy. End of book.
I was prompted to do a bit of Googling. First to get his dates--he was shot in 1916 on the Western Front. His last words were apparently, "Put that bloody cigarette out." He had enlisted although he was over 40, and he had refused a commission, preferring to serve as a private soldier.
As I read Bassington, I thought I detected some subtle gay references, and I Googled--"was H. H. Munro gay?" Plenty of answers came up, including this
"Munro was homosexual, but...that side of Munro's life had to be kept
secret. His pen name, however, was a strong hint: Saki was a term for a
cup-bearer, a beautiful boy, an object of male desire. Munro kept a houseboy
(hint) throughout most of his life, and many of his stories included coded
references to homosexuality. In a series of stories, the suspiciously close
characters, dandies Reginald and Clovis, engage in dialogue and activity that
allow the more astute reader to read between the lines.
According to biographer A.J. Langguth, regarding Saki’s
same-sex activity: “(His) average in his best months was an encounter every
second day; when he was busy or traveling, every third day.” Maybe that’s why
his stories were so short." (Not sure I see the logic of that)
There is dispute whether Saki was anti-Semitic (that's another Google exercise that yields interesting results). But in Bassington there are several snide anti-Semitic comments, including the following, describing the crowd in an Austrian restaurant:
"Also in evidence at discreet intervals, were stray units of the Semetic (sic) tribe that nineteen centuries of European neglect had been unable to mislay."
I went back to my copy of Saki's Complete Stories, which I see was a present from my elder Sister Anne on my 16th Birthday. Some of them are wonderful--Sredni Vashtar, Tobermory, The Seven Cream Jugs, The Secret Sin of Septimus Brope. Clovis provides words for a song by Septimus, who is editor of Cathedral Monthly but secretly writes silly lyrics and tunes that praise women; but he is stumped with rhymes for Florrie. Clovis provides a new approach--denigrate Florrie. And so we have:
"How you bore me Florrie
With those eyes of vacant blue;
You'll be very sorry, Florrie,
If I marry you.
Though I'm easy-goin', Florrie
This I swear is true,
I'll throw you down a quarry, Florrie,
If I marry you."
And Clovis suggests to Septimus that to keep his secret secret, Septimus should use the royalties to take him, Clovis, on an all-expenses-paid holiday in the Adriatic.